The Unseen
by wtfisaverage
Summary: Just some Artcedes I've been wanting to write.
1. Chapter 1

The Unseen by wtfisaverage

The solo went to someone else of course. Mercedes tried to breathe through the knot in her stomach, the ball of nerves that appeared without fail when Mr. Schue announced the lead vocalists. She knew it wouldn't be her. It was never her, but she couldn't stop her hopes from rising. Shaking her head, Mercedes quickly gathered her belongings and left the Glee classroom. There was nothing left to say. She'd said it all before. She'd huffed, puffed and worked her butt off only to have everyone acknowledge she was awesome, but receive no shine. At this point, she just wanted to sit alone with her disappointment until it melted away.

Artie didn't see her leave. He didn't see or hear much of anything happening in Glee. The politics of the Glee room were beyond him. He lived for the moments after Glee club when he could go to the deserted auditorium. There he could dance in his wheelchair and sing all the songs he never shared with the New Directions. The moment Mr. Schue dismissed them, Artie was gone. No one noticed. No one saw. Nobody asked.

Artie wheeled in the back of the auditorium, preparing himself for the sight of his stage when he saw her. "Mercedes?" She sat at the judges' table where Mr. Schue watched the New Directions perform. Turning in her seat, Mercedes sighed and said, "Hey, Artie."

Rolling next to her, Artie asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm watching myself sing the solo at Regionals," she answered, gazing at the stage.

"What do you mean?"

Shaking her head, she laughed sadly, replying, "Never mind. It's just a stupid game I play by myself. Ignore me."

"No." Reaching over, Artie grabbed her hand and nodded at the stage. "Tell me, please. I want to see what you see."

Clutching his hand, she dreamed aloud, "The spotlight. It's caressing my curls, you know? My gown flows down around me. I'm singing and everyone is looking at me. My family, my friends, even Mr. Schue. They see me giving praise for my voice, giving thanks to the artists who've inspired me. They are watching me give my all to do justice to Music. The only time the audience isn't looking at me is when they search for my name in the program. Somehow, I've made them see that I matter."

Big brown eyes turned to look at Artie. He could see she waited for him to dismiss her and her vision and anticipated his rejection of her dream. "I only see one thing wrong," he answered, as he watched her begin to shut down, "that stage is too small. It's not you at Regionals. That's you at the Grammy's, the only stage besides Madison Square Garden equipped to handle the star you are."

"Why am I so willing to settle then, Artie?" Sniffing, she continued, "I want all of it. I want that," she gestured to the stage. "I want to stand up there and just know."

"Know what?"

"That I deserve to be seen."

"Having people look at you isn't all it's cracked up to be," Artie said, glancing at her. "Trust me."

"What are you saying, Artie?"

"I'm saying that no one will ever take a first or even second glance at me and think there's Artie the singer. No one sees me as who I am or what I will be because the chair comes first. It's an automatic label. I'm the 'disabled kid who just happens to sing'. People hear you, Mercedes," Artie responded softly, "you open your mouth to sing and people hear everything there is to know about you. They hear your strength and your struggle and you sound like no one I've ever heard. You have a voice."

"You dream, Artie?" she asked.

"Yeah everyday, that I'm a dancer," he confessed. "My body doesn't know it, but I can dance. I can do moves you've never thought existed. In my dreams, I'm Michael Jackson. I'm 'Thriller' and 'Bad'. I'm every step that I can't take without this wheelchair."

It was strange, this confessional they'd enacted. Both knew the New Directions would be different without them, maybe less of a team, definitely less diverse, but they were just pieces. They weren't glue like Finn or Rachel.

It was a tender idea that sparked in Artie's brain. It wasn't much, but he could do it. "If you went on that stage, Mercedes, I'd watch you. I'd be your audience hanging on to every note. I wouldn't look away. I'd see you."

It choked her, his willingness to make her dream come true in his own small way. Her throat was so tight, she didn't think she could croak let alone sing. Instead she said, "I have a better idea. Follow me."

Cocking his head, Artie carefully rolled behind her until they were in the middle of the stage. "How strong are you, Artie?"

Making light of her question, he held up his arms and joked, "Are you kidding me? Do you see these guns?"

"I'm serious. Are you strong enough to hold me… like on your lap?"

With no hesitation, he said, "Yes. Why?"

Coming close enough to where their knees touched, Mercedes leaned over and touched his shoulders, whispering, "Because I want to dance with you."

His hands only shook a little as they came to rest at her waist. Eyeing her carefully to see if she wanted to bail, Artie turned her slightly and seated her on his lap. Settling in against him, Mercedes laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his neck. "Don't we need music to dance?" she asked him, smiling.

"Must I do everything, woman?" Laughing down at her, Artie began to hum as he rocked them to and fro in his chair.

"A Whole New World, Artie? Really, Aladdin?" Mercedes giggled.

"The closest thing to a carpet when you're riding with me!"

They laughed, but Mercedes was touched. Lightly caressing the fine hairs on the back of his neck, Mercedes began to sing.

_Unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings  
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling  
Through an endless diamond sky _

Her voice was so faint, the song slowed down in bluesy soul. Artie had to lean his face forward to hear her. Her lips grazed his cheek and all he could think was she smelled of jasmine and lavender. Turning his face slightly toward her, Artie picked up her hand and sang with her.

_Don't you dare close your eyes _  
_Hold your breath, it gets better_

Forgoing the pleasure of her hand, he wrapped his left arm around her waist as he sent them spinning with his right hand. Laughing, she kicked a foot out in glee. Picking up the tempo, they sang together:

_I'll chase them anywhere _  
_There's time to spare _  
_Let me share this whole new world _  
_With you _

Their voices were magical. They swirled together and complemented each other effortlessly. Yet, it was scary, the way their bodies connected. The scratch of her fingernails against his neck and her lips so close to his chin. The strength of the arm wrapped against her and the safety of his hold. Her breaths came closer together. His palms started to sweat as he slowed them to a stop. When brown eyes met blue, the recognition was there.

"I see you," he said to her, wrapping his arms around her.

She saw that he did. More than that, she saw his belief in her and it made her happier than she'd ever felt in Glee club. Reaching up both her arms, she squeezed him to her and kissed him twice on the cheek. Somewhere in the midst of her affection, Artie turned his face. She hesitated, but she leaned in any way. Their lips met. It wasn't a perfect kiss. The angle was imperfect and they didn't quite match their lips right. Just when it felt like a mistake, they slowed down. He reached up and held the back of her neck. Not forcefully or hard, just holding it. She gripped his shirt and they adjusted. They sipped from each other, each making one unbelievable kiss after another. Artie's glasses fogged and Mercedes' leg trembled.

It hit her. She was kissing Artie. She was kissing… Artie? "Oh my goodness," she breathed, scrambling off of his lap and backing away. "I have to go."

"Wait, just give me a sec. We'll talk," Artie said, snatching his glasses from his face so he could see.

"No, I have to go." Mercedes said over her shoulder as she left the auditorium.

Hurriedly, Artie placed his glasses on his face just in time to see her leave. "Mercedes!" he tried calling out to her.

The butterflies in her stomach churned all the way to her car. "What did I just do? What just happened?" Mentally, she cursed herself. Somewhere in that auditorium, Artie made her feel good and it turned into some hormonal glitch gone horribly wrong. Why was it horrible? Her mind ran in circles trying to explain to the butterflies, her lips, her spirit and all the parts still tingling from the afternoon that this was a bad idea. Her phone buzzed and lit as a text message came through.

It was from Artie. It read: Just talk to me. Please.

_A/N: *I'm just trying to get back into the flow of writing again. Nothing serious.*_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Unseen Chapter 2**

"Now tell me how you kissed Artie again?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes at Kurt's teasing confusion. She called him as soon as she arrived home. Mercedes had to admit she'd panicked. She needed someone to help her sort out her feelings so she called her best friend. Kurt drove over to hear the details and now wouldn't stop teasing her about it.

Mercedes looked at him. She looked at the floor and then shrugged her shoulders. "What, Kurt? It just happened."

Raising his eyebrows at her, Kurt smirked and replied, "You don't just kiss a boy in a wheelchair. I mean, we all love Artie, but come on 'Cedes. You have to believe you deserve better. I mean, look at me and Blaine. I could have settled for a secreted affair, but I set my goals high and found something great. You don't have to settle is all I'm saying."

Kurt's statements didn't sit right with her. Frowning, she asked, "So it's okay for Tina and Brittany to be with Artie, but I would be settling?"

Sighing, Kurt said, "You're acting as if I'm trying to be offensive here. I'm not. I think Artie's great. To address your point, however, Tina's with Mike now and Brittany… well, it's Brittany. Life at McKinley is hard enough. Can you imagine being one of the few black women there who just so happens to date the only kid in a wheelchair? What's left from your life after being in Glee would be over. You deserve better, Mercedes and I just think you should focus more on a future with the strong, dashing man that you deserve."

Mercedes wasn't sure what she felt, but what Kurt was saying upset her. She switched the subject, easily done if Blaine or Nyada were brought up. They chatted and gossiped, but Mercedes carefully kept the conversation away from Artie. When Kurt left, she sat on her bed and thought about what Artie said to her earlier.

_If you went on that stage, Mercedes, I'd watch you. I'd be your audience hanging on to every note. I wouldn't look away. I'd see you._

Finally, she grabbed her phone and responded to Artie's message.

* * *

_Let's talk tomorrow after school in the auditorium._

Artie stared at the only reply Mercedes sent him last night. He waited at his locker, his mind looping yesterday's events. The dance, the song, the kiss, but mostly, the connection. And they did connect yesterday. Damn whatever she had to say about it. The beautiful, curvy brown girl and the pale boy in the wheelchair had the same problem. While being arguably the most visible people in this school, they went unseen.

He saw her yesterday.

Yes, the legendary diva in training was there, but babygirl was vulnerable. Underneath her bold defenses, she was soft, precious and deserving of a love that would reassure, honor and protect her. Artie knew he had that to offer. He could do that. While walking was impossible, loving Mercedes was not.

He just had to convince her.

As he watched her walk toward the Glee room with her curls bouncing, wearing skin tight red leggings and an off the shoulder white t-shirt, he knew he had a fight ahead of him.

Maybe he was staring and maybe he was sweating, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do. So putting his shoulders back, Artie took a breath and rolled up to her.

She smiled. The little, blushing nervous smile she does in the Glee classroom when she finally gets a little praise. Artie looked at her lips, glazed in a gloss that smelled faintly like… strawberries?

Putting a hand out to stop her from coming any closer, Artie asked, "Hold up. Is that strawberry lip gloss?"

Confused, Mercedes lifted an eyebrow and responded, "Yes."

"The same strawberry lip gloss you wore yesterday?"

"Yes, Artie. Why?"

Shaking his head, Artie glared at her. "You don't play fair, Mercedes. You think you can just come in here looking delicious and smelling like strawberry shortcake with extra toppings, well you're wrong and rude. Putting berries on berries. You ought to be ashamed, woman."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about not being able to sleep because the scent of strawberry kept teasing my nose. I'm talking of dreaming about running through strawberry patches. I'm talking about not being able to hold an intelligent and important conversation with you because all I can think of is strawberry flavored Mercedes' lips," Artie ranted softly. With a stiff hand to the heavens emphasizing how done he actually was, Artie turned his wheelchair around and wheeled away fussing about how rude people can be.

Angrily following him into the glee room, Mercedes sat down next to where he parked his chair. "You got a lot of nerve, Abrams," she turned around to face him.

"Alright guys," Mr. Schue entered the room disrupting the pair, "let's get started. I hope everyone has their assignment ready for this week. Remember, the theme is Soul."

"Oh dear Lord," Mercedes groaned into her hand as she rolled her eyes and shook her head at the desecration she knew was coming. Turning her head, she caught Artie crossing his arms and shaking his head. Their eyes caught in shared disgust. She almost smiled while he looked away and cleared his throat.

The little moments kept happening. Their classmates tried to be soulful and sang songs by Barbara Streisand, Barry Manilow and Elvis. Rachel sang "Memory" from Cats. In perfect synchronization, the duo looked at her, looked at the board with the word "Soul" underlined, and then looked at each other and laughed. Something within her paused to check out his blue eyes behind his glasses and how his smile took up his entire face.

Artie was called next. Wheeling to the front of the class, Artie said, "The song I'm about to sing is special. Besides being the epitome of soul, I'm singing this song so that someone special knows that I see her and I've seen her even when she didn't know I was watching."

Mercedes guessed he was talking about her, but was taken by surprise when she heard the opening chords to "Try a Little Tenderness."

Artie sang:

_Oh, she may be weary  
Young girls they do get weary  
Wearing that same old shaggy dress, yeah yeah  
But when she gets weary  
Try a little tenderness, yeah yeah  
You know she's waiting  
Just anticipating  
For things that she'll never, never, never, never possess, yeah yeah  
But while she's there waiting, without them  
Try a little tenderness (that's all you gotta do)_

Mercedes remembered singing this song for Jesse and Mr. Schue. At the time, even though they'd been impressed with her performance, they passed her over for Rachel. Sure, they said something about Rachel's training and not believing Mercedes was capable of producing the same sound repeatedly, but it boiled down to not believing in her. They didn't think she was capable. They didn't choose her. She didn't know how Artie knew about this performance and how she'd given her all, but he sang it as if he was singing for all the times she'd been passed over.

_All you gotta do is, man, hold her where you want her  
Squeeze her, don't tease her, never leave her  
Get to her, try, try  
Just try a little tenderness, ooh yeah yeah yeah  
You got to know how to love her, man, you'll be surprised, man  
You've got to squeeze her, don't tease her, never leave  
You've got to hold her and rub her softly  
Try a little tenderness, ooh yeah yeah yeah  
_

His eyes were on her. His voice had an edgier, raw quality that she hadn't heard before in his history of smooth baby making vocals. He was the same Artie she'd always looked at. Parked in his wheelchair, khaki pants and button down shirt with a sweater, but today was different. She was seeing him and the way music made him different, made him more. She smiled to cover up the shiver for the boy singing to her, about her, and most importantly, for her.

While everyone clapped and cheered for him, Mercedes felt her phone buzz. Checking it, she saw a message from Kurt that read: _Let him down gently. Love you._ Looking up, she saw Kurt smiling sadly and giving her thumbs up.

When class finished, Mercedes and Artie went together to the auditorium. They took the back entrance that lead directly to the stage. Making their way backstage, Artie stopped her at the curtain. "This is where I saw you sing."

"Those auditions were private. How?"

"People make allowances for the kid in the wheelchair," he said, smirking. "Anyway, there you were in grey jeans and a white and grey sweater belting out this incredible song and I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Striding past him and onto the stage, Mercedes said, "Well if you saw that, then you saw Jesse and Mr. Schue basically call me lazy and inferior to Rachel."

"No," he said, rolling behind her, "I saw a beautiful girl not being a chance. I saw a future artist not being given the care she needs to grow."

"Artie," she sighed, "what are we doing here? This is crazy."

"How is it crazy? How is connecting to someone who sees the world the same as you crazy?" Wheeling in front of her, Artie looked up and said, "Is it crazy to be in the midst of a bunch of people and feel alone? Is it crazy to see someone with the same shade of loneliness and want to be alone together?"

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

He grabbed her hand. "I'm saying we deserve each other. I deserve someone smart, driven, talented, fine, someone with morals, courageous, and did I mention fine."

Thinking of Kurt's words, Mercedes asked, "And you're saying, I deserve you?"

"Absolutely," he answered, "you deserve to be seen, appreciated, adored, supported, cherished, all of the above. You deserve tenderness. You deserve to be loved, Mercedes. I'm brave enough to do all of it if you'll let me."

Mercedes bent down so he had no choice but to see and smell her, she whispered, "Please don't sweep me off of my feet if you're only going to drop me."

Grabbing her other hand and holding her there, Artie whispered back, "Don't run from me before I can get a good hold on you."


End file.
